


A Second Chance.

by daydreamer2100



Series: Ezio and Sofia. [6]
Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, Lost Love, Moving On, New love, ezioandsofianeedmorefics, letting go, new life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-22
Updated: 2019-06-22
Packaged: 2020-05-16 12:38:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19318348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daydreamer2100/pseuds/daydreamer2100
Summary: There are just parts of our pasts that we carry around. They make us feel weak and they make us feel pain, but there's just a sweetness in them we just can't let go.Ezio has a lot of these to carry.But now, having a family of his own and a chance to live a new kind of life, it might be time to let those bittersweet memories go.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! I'm back!
> 
> I'm sorry I'm being so inconsistent, but I've been working on some original works, and had been busy with classes; but I'm still going at it, don't worry. 
> 
> For this fic I tried to do something slightly different to the norm, but I really hope you'll still like it. I know it's a little sad, or I'd like to say bittersweet, but I still liked the idea. I hope you'll agree with me after reading it.
> 
> Anyways, thank you so much for reading, and I'd love to hear your thoughts on this work.

Sofia’s back rose and fell as she slept face down on the bed. Ezio laid on his side, watching her through the darkness. Her hair was loose and messy, her bare back glowing in the moonlight. He smiled, carefully reaching for her hair and pulling away a strand of hair. Sofia scrunched her face a little, stirring. Half asleep, she reached up and grabbed his hand. Not saying a word, she kissed it and intertwined her fingers with his.

Ezio squeezed her hand, leaned over and kissed her forehead. Sofia gave him a sleepy smile, and drifted off again almost immediately. A shiver crawled up his spine when the covers slid off his back. He pulled it back up, taking the time to cover Sofia too. He lay back on his pillow, sighing deeply. For a while, he just listened to Sofia’s calm breaths. He kept looking out the window, watching the sky go from black to a dark blue. 

The room was still, the covers warm, the wind was cool, and the birds were beginning to sing outside. There was no way it could be better.

But still, he wasn’t at peace.

When he closed his eyes, he kept seeing the same face… kept hearing the same voice. He’d managed to bury it while he was with Sofia, but now it was out… along with a horrible guilt he knew well. A feeling he’d been carrying for fifteen years now.

He closed his eyes again, and was met by a pair of distinct brown eyes, staring at him from the dark depths of his memory. They placed a weight he couldn’t get off from his chest, and filled him with a grief he could not name. When he opened them again, he saw Sofia there, not the face of his thoughts. He stared at her for a while, taking in every single detail: her nose, her brows, her hair… everything. 

She was beautiful, and she was his… his wife, and the mother of his children. The thought made him smile, but the sight of the brown eyes sent a dagger of guilt through his entire being just as the thought entered his brain.

He couldn’t go on like this.

Without another word, he got out of bed. He was careful not to wake Sofia as he got dressed, slowly putting on his boots. Once he was done, he went for the door. He stopped there, and looked back at his wife. On the last second, he walked up to her and kissed her temple. And then, without a word, he left.

He was going past the nursery when he heard a familiar giggle. He stopped in his tracks, turning towards the closed door. Carefully, he opened it and went inside. 

The window was open, the early morning breeze blowing in. The crib was near the window, and Ezio could see a little hand reaching out towards it. He smiled, walking slowly towards it. He found Flavia wide awake and calm, trying to reach out the window. Her eyes drifted towards her father when he stood over him, a smile appearing on her face. She began reaching out to him, squirming around.

Ezio picked her up, holding her against his chest as she settled down. “What are you doing up so early,  _ tesoro _ ?” he asked, caressing her cheek.

The baby looked at him and smiled, reaching up to grab his face. Ezio allowed it, leaning in to let her take a hold of his nose. He smiled as she pulled on it, gurgling and laughing. He closed his eyes, and suddenly the brown eyes were back. 

He flinched.

Flavia seemed to pick up on it, because she let go and just stared at him in silence. Ezio took that moment to look at her. Everyone said she looked like him, but he always thought there was something, a gleam in her eyes, that reminded him of Federico. Maybe she didn’t look like Federico, but… there was just something in her stare that reminded Ezio of him. He began to think about what that could be, but he stopped himself. 

He had to deal with one ghost at a time. 

Kissing Flavia’s head, he settled her back in her crib. “Go to sleep,” he said in a soft voice, “I’ll be back soon.”

He left the nursery and went to his office trying not to think too much, but, as soon as he came in, a knot formed in his chest. He stood there in the doorway for a while, looking at the chest pushed against a corner of the room. It was covered in clutter and dust. He took a deep breath and made his way towards it. As quietly as he could, he cleared the top of the chest and opened it. He knelt in front of it for a while, just looking inside. He had forgotten most of the things he had hidden in there: A surviving feather from Petrucio’s collection, one of Federico’s rings Claudia had saved from their house before fleeing, some of his mother’s sketches, his father’s letters, a dagger uncle Mario had gifted him for his eighteenth birthday, and… what he was looking for. 

The box was buried in the bottom of the chest, completely forgotten. Ezio picked it up, studying the dull wood, and running his fingers through the thin crack on its back. 

He hadn’t really looked at it in years. It was one of the few things he had actually saved from his uncle’s villa, in the split second he had to take something other than his hidden blade. 

It was a pretty small box, but, to him, it was heavy as a boulder. As he studied it, he heard a door shut in the second floor. He jumped, clutching the box and turning around. No one was there.

He recovered his breath, his heart hammering in his chest. He held the box close to his chest, the guilt mixing with a piercing grief that made it hard to think. He thought about putting the box back and going back up stairs. It would’ve been the easiest thing: just put that heavy box back in that forgotten trunk, and go back to sleep with his wife… but he just couldn’t.

Even if he put that box in the deepest part of the trunk, he would know it’s there. He would always know it was there. He had to get rid of it… even if that made him feel like drowning. 

He sat on his desk, putting the box in front of him and just looking at it. He didn’t dare open it, he wasn’t ready to face what was inside. He honestly wasn’t sure he was ready to face any of it. After so long he thought it would be easier, but it wasn’t. 

Ezio stared at the box for a long time, and decided he couldn’t. The guilt and grief were just too much… tearing his soul to shreds. He cursed under his breath and got up. He picked up the box, but as soon as he did, his eyes drifted to a book on the edge of the desk. 

Sofia’s copy of the ‘Odyssey’. 

She probably left it there from the night before the party, when she read there while he wrote. Her favorite chair was still pulled up to the side of the desk. Even now, he could see Sofia there, patiently sitting by his side, reading and making him company. He would get stuck every now and then, and she would give him the perfect word without even looking up. 

It was truly remarkable. 

Ezio sighed, picking up the book. He held the book and the box in each hand, looking at them intently. Oddly enough, the book was lighter… much,  _ much _ lighter. In it, he saw his wife with him, and their little baby; happiness, tranquility, and love. It was that calm after the storm that made the sea still and the sky a light blue. 

The box, on the other hand, was filled with a passion, ignorance, and carelessness. It was the races with Federico; and the nights of passion with Cristina, filled with the anxiety and excitement of being caught; it was his family’s jokes at the dinner table, and Cristina’s annoyed laugh at his comments.

It was his innocence and youth. 

But now, the box was heavy, filled to the brim with horrible memories. All those races, all those nights, all the laughter… they had turned into bittersweet memories that brought a smile to his face and stabbed his heart. It was full of heartbreak, and confusion, and loss, and anger, but, above all, it was filled with  _ death _ . 

For fifteen years, he’d carried that box around. He never opened it, but he always kept it close. Even when he left for Masyaf, he took it with him. That little box somehow made it harder for him to climb up walls, made his arm tire faster with the sword, and pressed down against his chest when he slept. 

It was always there, pulling him down like an iron piece chained to him… and yet, he couldn’t let it go. The memories, although painful, were still too sweet. 

But, at that moment, holding that old box next to the book, it became obvious that the time had come. 

He put the book down and walked out with the box. “It’s time,” he told himself.


	2. Chapter 2

Ezio got over the cemetery’s wall, though he noted that he had more difficulty in doing so compared to the last time he had done it. He took a moment to catch his breath and look around. The sky was getting lighter by the minute, giving the entire yard a ghostly glow, which seemed fitting. The early morning breeze blew through the headstones, caressing the grass and wildflowers growing all over the grass and on the graves. There were several headstones scattered around the yard, ending against the back of the Ognissanti church. He hesitated, pressing the box to his chest, the doubt coming back even stronger than before. 

He was about to turn back when he looked up, seeing the way the sky had turned orange as the sun rose. Seeing that soft orange tone reminded him of Sofia’s hair, and the whiteness of the sky made him think of her skin. 

She should be asleep still, but not for much longer. She liked to rise with the sun, she had told him. Ezio could imagine her waking up, wondering where he went, before getting dressed and going over to the nursery to feed Flavia. She would make breakfast after that. 

The thought of her was enough for him to be able to take the first step.

As Ezio made his way to the church, he noted on the fact that the number of headstones had really increased since he was there. And the ones he did recognize from before were covered in moss, with vines and wildflowers growing all over. Some even had wilted flowers scattered at their feet. 

Finally, he made it to the back of the church. He looked up at the window he was going to use as an entrance, the path from the last time still very clear in his mind. So, just as he did before, he took a running start and boosted himself up, grabbing a hold of the windowsill and pulling himself inside. 

His feet sent a deep echo through the empty church when he landed. He’d feared a priest or a nun could’ve been there and heard him, but thankfully it was just him and the dead. 

He made his way down the aisle, looking around at the fresco on the ceiling and the statues and ornaments on the walls. He glanced over at the altar, feeling, oddly enough, like the crucifix was looking right at him. He didn’t pay attention to his step, and he didn’t have to, he knew where he was going. 

Even if he had only been there once before, fifteen years earlier. 

The silence of the church, despite the storm raging inside him, struck him as peaceful. It was light and holy… perfect for resting. And that was good, Ezio wanted her to rest well. 

Just as he took notice of this, his feet stopped and he looked up.

He already knew what he was going to find there, but it still hurt. The tomb was carved into the floor of the church, closed by a red marble slab. On it, there was a white circle with a family coat of arms and a name:

_ ‘Cristina Vespucci’. _

Ezio just stared at that name for a while, thinking about everything and nothing at all. The amount of guilt that washed over as he looked at that name was indescribable, so much so, that it almost matched his grief. 

“Hello, Cristina,” he said, his words bouncing off the marble walls of the church, “it’s been a while.”

Of course, there was no reply. 

Ezio took a moment, looking around the church. He didn’t know why, but he was incredibly anxious. Like if, somehow, she was really listening. 

Part of him wished she was. 

He looked around the church, taking in the way the light came in through the windows and made the altar glow. “This is a very beautiful place,” he commented, “seems like a good place to sleep.”

He waited for a moment, almost expecting to hear an answer.

“I didn’t notice how beautiful it was the last time I was here,” Ezio continued, fidgeting with his hands, “of course that was right after you…  _ si… _ I- I could rarely find anything to be beautiful at the time.”

By God, he didn’t know what to do with his hands…

“I’m sorry I didn’t come before,” he kept going, a knot forming in his throat as he looked at the quiet slab of marble, “I just… I’ve been travelling around.”

He looked at the name, his hands shaking. “I… went east,” he said, “all the way to the Ottoman empire.” He smiled weakly. “It was very… interesting, I did find many things to be beautiful there…” he swallowed back, Sofia’s memory coming back.

The guilt soared in his chest, and he had to take a moment to compose himself. But the more he stood still, the more the guilt morphed into something else: a soul burning feeling that made his stomach gurgle. 

He clenched his fists, looking at the tomb. “Why didn’t you come with me, Cristina?” he asked suddenly, a long held anger coming suddenly, springing from the place he had stuffed it into at seventeen, “why?! Why couldn’t you leave your family?!”

Ezio paused for a moment, almost as if he was giving her a moment to try and explain herself. 

“And even if you did stay,” he continued, “why didn’t you leave Florence with me when I came back? You could’ve left Manfredo… ” as he spoke, his voice cracked. 

He stared at the tomb for a moment, his eyes filling with tears.

“And why didn’t I try harder to get you to come with me?” he asked, a tear rolling down his face.

The church was quiet, all the statues standing still to let them talk.

“You pushed me away,” he muttered, looking down, “and I didn’t fight hard enough for you.”

He was crying now, but he didn’t care. It was like something he had been holding inside for the last forty years had suddenly burst open, and there was no way to put it back. All the frustration, and heartache, and loss, and pain, and anger… all of it. It all came out in the form of thick tears and shaking fists. 

Ezio looked right at the name. “Why didn’t we take the leap?” he asked. 

Silence… that’s all there was after. And that’s all there would ever be… no explanation, no answers, no consolation, just silence. 

“I always wondered, you know,” he continued, his entire body shaking, “what it would’ve been like if we had done things differently.” 

He looked up at the fresco on the ceiling, wiping his tears. “Maybe we could’ve lived in my uncle’s villa, and then Rome. Maybe we could’ve had a family… maybe we could’ve been happy… ”

“At every moment, I would think about it, what it could’ve been,” he muttered, “as I ate, as I slept, as I dreamed… always.”

In his mind, Ezio could almost picture Cristina there, sitting somewhere in the church, listening to him. And it hurt to imagine it, but also, every word made him feel lighter. 

“But not anymore,” he said, “I can’t.”

With shaking hands, he pulled out the small box from his pocket. He held it for a moment, breathing deeply as he gathered his words. Still looking at it, he spoke. 

“The moment you died,” he said, “a part of me died as well…”

Ezio was almost convinced Cristina was sitting in one of pews, listening. He could almost feel her stare on him, drilling deep. His mouth was dry, guilty tears still coming. He imagined she knew where he was going, or maybe she didn’t… he wasn’t sure which one was better. 

But he couldn’t stop.

He thought of Sofia again, and soldiered on. “You were my first love, Cristina,” he said, his voice more certain now, “and I loved you…  _ mio Dio _ , I  _ adored _ you. Anything you wanted, I would’ve given to you… I really would’ve. I loved you more than I could put into words, but you knew that, or I hope you did.”

Taking a deep breath, he forced the next words out of his throat. 

“But then you died.” The heaviness those words brought were almost palpable, crashing through the peace of the church. 

The memory of Cristina, dead in his arms, was as clear as it had happened a minute earlier. The feeling of her body going cold still sent shivers down his spine. He was so shocked at the moment, he hadn’t even cried. After that day, and for a very long time, he just felt numb. To the point he had almost  been certain he had died as well. 

“After you were gone,” he said, “I tried to feel again, to love, but… I just couldn’t. No matter how hard I tried, I just couldn’t find that feeling again.”

He thought about all the women he had picked up during his life. They had all been interesting and spirited, and they had all liked him, and he had liked them… but… he didn’t love them, he never did. 

“There were girls, I won’t lie,” he looked down, “but they never went farther than general liking and a physical attraction.”

Ezio blinked a few times, clutching the box. “If I’m honest,” he said, “I was scared, and I felt guilty… I didn’t want to have anything to lose again, and… I didn’t want to let you go, I feared it may upset you if I did… and… I still loved you.”

The time had come now. There was no use in beating around the bush anymore. He opened his mouth, but the words wouldn’t come out. He was tempted to look over his shoulder, to try and see her, but he decided not to. “But-” The guilt was flooding his chest like cold water, seeping slowly into every part of him and spilling out through his eyes. His entire body was shaking, his heart racing.

He closed his eyes tightly, and they came to him: Sofia and Flavia. Ezio could see them clearly, they were smiling at him. Just looking at them filled him with peace, the water draining as suddenly as it had come. And for that instant, seeing them in his mind, he felt as light as the ‘Odyssey’ book. 

It gave him courage. 

“But then I met Sofia,” he said in a steady voice.

He could almost see the look of shock in Cristina’s face, but he continued. 

“When we met, I felt drawn to her,” he explained, “she was beautiful, and lively, and I needed her help…”

By now, Cristina’s face would’ve turned sad. He could see the grief in her brown eyes, and it stabbed his chest with guilt, but he kept the image of his wife and daughter as a shield and kept going. 

“The more I spoke with her, the more I liked her, and that turned to admiration, and then to affection, and…” Ezio took a moment, taking a deep breath, “then love.”

“I fell in love with her, Cristina,” Ezio kept his eyes closed, but his voice was steady, “and then I married her, and that love grew; and, with every day we spent together, I loved her more and more; and then she gave me a daughter, and I loved her even more…”

By now Cristina would’ve been crying, or maybe she would’ve been sitting there as shocked as Ezio had been when she told him she was getting married to Manfredo. 

“I love Sofia, more than I can even understand,” he added, unable to stop himself, “she makes me happy, she makes me feel at peace, I don’t feel alone with her, I feel… at home.”

If she hadn’t been crying before, she would’ve been now. The thought made his heart break. “I didn’t mean for it to happen, I promise,” he reassured her, “I really didn’t, but… I just couldn’t help myself. She tore down the walls, after so long, I felt it again… love. And I think that’s another one of the reasons I love her so much… she made me realize that I was not dead after all.”

He hadn’t noticed, but he was bawling. Sobbing, he opened the box and pulled out the Cristina’s pendant. He looked at it, remembering the moment Cristina gave it back to him as she faded away. Shuffling it in his hands carefully, he let the box drop to the floor. “I…” he said, “I wanted to leave this here after the burial, but… I just couldn’t; I wasn’t ready.”

Ezio wiped his eyes, looking at the grave again. “But I’m ready now,” he said.

Kneeling down, he placed the pendant carefully over the name, in the center of the coat of arms. He leaned down and kissed the cold marble, running his hand over the name. He sat back, looking at the pendant on the grave. 

“You will always be my first love, Cristina… but now I have a second chance,” he said, “and I’m taking it.”

As Ezio walked away from the grave, his heart lifted. He knew he loved Cristina with all the intensity and passion of young love. That boy who raced through the roofs of Florence with his brother, the one who got into fights and snuck into her room, he would always be hers. But he wasn’t that boy anymore.

It was time to let go.

But, even though it hurt, it didn’t scare him. For, he knew, he wouldn’t fall far. 


	3. Chapter 3

The house was awake by the time he came back. As soon as Ezio opened the door, he was greeted by the sound of Filippa’s high pitched voice coming from the dining room, along with quick steps on the wood floor and the sound of pots clanging in the kitchen. He stood there for a moment, taking a deep breath.

He found Filippa setting the table while her husband read in one of the chairs. They didn’t seem to notice him standing there, and he didn’t make himself known either. He wasn’t one to engage in mindless talk, it bored him. Besides, he was much more interested by the light baby laughs coming from the kitchen.

By the time Filippa had sensed something and turned around, there was no sign of Ezio ever being there.

Ezio stopped on the entrance to the kitchen, a smile growing on his face. Sofia was inside, fixing the food into platters with one hand, and holding Flavia to her hip with the other. The baby kept squirming around, trying to reach for just about everything and anything on the table. Sofia kept fixing her grip on her. “No, Flavia,” she said, “you can’t eat this.”

That didn’t deter the girl, and she kept trying to reach for one of the pastries on the plates. Sofia sighed, pulling her up with both her hands to look at her. “Flavia,” she said, looking her straight into her eyes, “no.”

The baby looked at her and broke into a fit of laughter. Ezio saw Sofia’s eyes soften, her face lit up with a smile. She rubbed her nose with the baby’s playfully before hugging the child while it still laughed.

Ezio chuckled, his chest swollen with a warmth he could not name. He just looked at them, feeling even lighter.

_He wouldn’t fall far._

Sofia looked up and saw him. “You left without a word,” she said, putting Flavia back against her hip, “I worried.”

As soon as Flavia saw her dad, she began reaching out to him, squirming and making fussy noises. “I had to do something,” he explained, walking up to them. He took the baby, and fixed her against his chest with one arm.

Sofia smiled, but she was frowning. “What did you have to do so early?” she asked, “when I woke up-”

He cupped Sofia’s face before she could finish and kissed her, long and sweet.

Sofia took a moment to open her eyes after the kiss, breathing deeply. Once she did, she looked at him and chuckled. “What was that?” she asked.

Ezio pressed his forehead to hers, fixing her hair. “Nothing,” he said, “I love you.”

She frowned playfully, reaching up and tracing the scar on his lip. “Do you now?” she asked, looking at him, “because it really scared me when I woke up to an empty bed and you were nowhere to be found.”

 _“Mi dispiace,”_ Ezio apologized, giving her a sly smile.

Sofia ran her hand through his hair, her eyes sparkling. “You are a little too old to sneak out after a woman shares her bed with you, _messere_ ,” she joked.

Ezio laughed, his heart swelling so much he thought it might burst. Flavia began squirming around, whimpering and groaning. Ezio moved her up to his shoulder, kissing the side of her head. Sofia caressed the back of the baby’s head with tender motions.

“Where did you go anyways?” she asked.

He didn’t answer immediately, playing with Flavia while he ordered his thoughts. He kissed the baby again, and turned to his wife. He smiled just at the sight of her, his heart skipping a beat. He took her hand in his, feeling how small it was, but so warm.

That hand belonged in his, there just couldn’t be any other way.

“I just had to do something,” he said.

“What?”

“Say goodbye.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! I really hope you liked it and I would love to hear your thoughts in the comments!


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